


Alternate Beginnings

by WhisperElmwood



Series: Tumblr Star Trek Prompts [2]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Crying, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Misunderstandings, Pre-Relationship, Prompt Fic, Prompt Fill, Short One Shot, pre-Academy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2019-01-07 16:10:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12236232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhisperElmwood/pseuds/WhisperElmwood
Summary: @kingarthurscat Fic Prompt - Their friendship began in a peculiar way; arms wrapped around a thin frame and a head on a chest. Falling asleep in each other’s arms on the first day they met.





	Alternate Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> As this is a shot one-shot from a tumblr prompt, it's not been BETA'd

Leonard does what he can for Kirk as Pike talks at the kid, trying to convince him that Star Fleet’s his best option. There’s not much he can do at the bar, he’d left his kit in his motel room, but still, he makes sure the kid’s nose ain’t broken, wipes away some of the blood, makes sure he’s not concussed. Then he just sits back and listens as Pike makes his case, just like he had with him two days ago. 

It’s like Pike wants to collect as many broken gutter-residing misfits as he can before the start of the next Academy term. 

When Pike leaves, with a nod and meaningful look at Leonard, Kirk doesn’t move, just sits at the tiny table and stares at the starship salt shaker. Leonard sighs and unfolds his arms. 

“Look, kid. I dunno if you have anywhere to go tonight, but I’m at the Budget Lodge Motel down the street, room 31. There’s a spare bed, and it’d give me some peace o’mind if I could get a proper look at you with my kit.” 

Kirk finally looks at him and smirks, “Maybe later, Doc.” 

Leonard just watches in silence as the kid pushes himself to his feet, slings his leather jacket on and stalks out of the bar. He doesn’t expect to see him again. 

Which is why it’s such a surprise when, at two o’clock in the morning, he opens the door to his dingy motel room and there Jim Kirk stands, looking at the floor with his hands stuffed in his jeans pockets.  

“Jim,” he says, still half asleep and unable to keep the shock out of his tone. 

Kirk flinches, glances up then away, “Uh, I just - on the off chance you actually meant it, I thought…” 

Leonard rubs a hand over his face and steps aside, “Get in here, kid, of course I meant it.”

He closes the door as Jim moves into the room, hands still in his pockets, his gaze sliding over the two beds - one obviously unslept in, the other’s sheets kicked hastily to one side - his clothing slung unceremoniously over one of the chairs, the medkit and half-empty duffle bag on the dining table, the all-night shopping channel that’s the only actual light in the room. 

Leonard opens his medkit, “Alright kid, get over here.” 

Kirk ambles over and drops into one of the rickety chairs, eyeing the medkit with obvious reluctance. “You really are a doctor, then?” 

Leonard cocks an eyebrow at him as he runs the tricorder over Kirk’s more obvious facial injuries, “Of course I am, what did you…” He frowns, abruptly rearing back a little, “Did you seriously come here expecting - what the hell kid!” 

Kirk glares at him, “Wouldn’t be the first damn time, ok? Just - get on with it, would you?” 

Leonard snorts, “Jesus kid…Alright, fine.” 

It doesn’t take him long. Kirk’s injuries are mostly just cosmetic and he gets the majority of them cleaned up and on their way to healed with the small dermal regenerator he keeps in his kit. But he’s also got some bad, deep bruising to his ribs. When he tells Kirk he’ll be dealing with them for a little while, because he just doesn’t have the right equipment, the kid just shrugs, tells him he’s had worse. 

When he’s done, he washes his hands again and then packs everything away with his usual obsessive meticulousness as Kirk shucks his boots and his jeans. A rustle of bedclothes has him looking up, only to see the kid sliding into Leonards bed. 

“Kid… I really don’t- you really don’t need to…” He doesn’t know how to finish the sentence. 

“Just get in the fucking bed, Doc. I’m not gonna do anything, I just…” Kirk shakes his head and rolls over, presenting his back to the room. 

Leonard sighs. He’s tired though, so he shuts off the light over the dining table, shuts off the TV and stumbles over to the bed. He slides in and tugs the blankets up, tries to get comfortable on the lumpy mattress and too-thin pillow. 

They lie in silence and Leonard finds himself thinking of the last time he actually shared a bed. It had been just as strained and uncomfortable, even though he had been lying next to his wife - the night before she served him the divorce papers, just over six months ago. He’s shared a few beds since, as he’s made his way from Atlanta to Iowa, though he’s never stayed the night with anyone, too fucked up, too untrusting, too angry and disgusted with himself to do that to anyone. 

So this is a whole new level of weird. 

He stares at the ceiling, waiting for sleep to come back. 

A sniff makes him jump and he turns his head to look, uselessly in the mostly darkened room, in Kirk’s direction. 

“Fucking hell…” 

“Kid… are you..?”

“ _No_. I’m  _fine_.” 

Kirk’s voice is rough, wet and broken sounding. Leonard rolls his eyes at the ceiling and makes a quick decision, mutters ‘goddammit’ under his breath. 

“Get the hell over here, kid.” He lifts the blanket up and reaches out, tugs at Kirk’s shoulder until the kid rolls over. There’s just enough ambient light in the room, leaking through the thin curtains, to glint on the kid’s obviously wet eyes as he glares at him. 

Kirk hesitates, “I thought-”

“ _Still_ not doin’ that, kid. Just get over here.” 

After a moment, Kirk slides over and Leonard drops his arm over the kid’s shoulders, tugs him in until he’s got his head on Leonard’s chest. Kirk stays tense, unyielding, but Leonard keeps his arm where it is, holding the kid tightly both to keep him still and because he honestly think the kid just needs a goddamn hug. 

After a few minutes, in which neither of them moves, Kirk starts to relax. And then he starts silently crying again, the change in his breathing and the dampness on Leonard’s chest the only things that give him away. Leonard huffs and wraps both his arms tightly around Kirk, entirely unsurprised to discover that though the kid’s shoulders are broad, there’s not much else to him. 

He doesn’t say anything, just lets the kid cry out whatever it is that’s been bottled up, absently running his hand over the slope of his back under the blankets. Eventually, Kirk sniffs again, sighs and snuggles in a little closer. When he speaks, it’s in a wet sounding whisper.

“Thank you.” 

Leonard glances down and hums, “S’alright. Go t’sleep, ok? We got a big day tomorrow.” 

Kirk drops off fairly quickly and Leonard stares at the ceiling again, wondering just what the fuck he’s gotten himself into. 

—

(He still tries to hide in the bathroom on the shuttle, and he still rants about the dangers of flying at Jim, but they already know each other’s names so they don’t need to introduce themselves as he shares his flask. Jim still takes to calling him Bones.)

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr @amalugoingboldly if y'all want to prompt me a thing


End file.
